


Five Nights at Robin's

by wigglewyrms (KeyholeCat)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babysitting, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Guilty Pleasures, MILFs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyholeCat/pseuds/wigglewyrms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucina's gig as a nanny seems all-too convenient until foul weather traps her in a giant manse with one petulant toddler and his insufferable mother.<br/>Rating will rise. </p><p>(Note: NOT a FNAF crossover, despite the title.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloudyMew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyMew/gifts), [megahypno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megahypno/gifts).



Maybe Lucina just isn’t cut out for handling kids.

It was originally Owain’s idea, anyway. Lucina desperately needed a job to beat back both her tuition and rent, so he had offered to be her reference for a daycare position. Owain is excellent with kids, so surely his cousin must be similarly talented, right?

Lucina winces as a toddler yanks on her hair. Again.

“Okay. How about this:” Lucina offers, putting Morgan back on the changing table, “if you agree to stop taking your diapers off at every conceivable moment, I will deduct two minutes from your next time-out. Agreed?”

Morgan wriggles from her grasp and nearly throws himself off the edge of the table.

“Gods!” She catches him just as he teeters over the edge. He struggles and whines in her grasp, but she holds him fast. She looks around helplessly, for she is the only person working that day. Such a thing is probably against the law, but she can’t imagine her superiors would appreciate being tattled upon. She can wait until she quits and finds another job which, gods willing, will be soon.

She places Morgan safely on the ground and watches him run directly into another child’s block castle, toppling it over.

She can't handle this. She feels panic mounting, crawling all over her skin and gripping her chest. Of course she hadn’t brought her medication today. She had expected it all to be fine.

She takes a deep breath and pulls her phone from her pocket. The least she can do is mitigate toddler-induced damage as much as possible.

Luckily, she has Morgan’s mother on speed dial.

“Hello, Robin speaking,” says a voice on the other end.

“Hello, Ms. Grimeau? This is Lucina from Shepherd Child Care. I’m calling about Morgan.”

“Oh! Hello, darling! How is my Morgan doing? Has he learned anything today?”

“I don’t—y-yes, of course, he’s learning all about, er, sharing, and—Morgan, do not put that in your mouth!” In vain, she covers one end of her phone as she scolds the wretched child.

“Are you alright over there, dear? You sound frazzled.”

“Yes, everything is—well, no, there is a small concern. Morgan is acting very… rambunctious, and it’s distressing to the other children. We’re somewhat understaffed today, so I was wondering if there is any possibility you might send someone to pick him up?”

There is laughter on the other end. “Is that all? Yes, I’d be happy to pick him up a little early. I’ll be over in fifteen. Can you hold the fort until then?”

“Yes, that sounds perfect. Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Ta!”

Lucina breathes a sigh of relief and slips her phone back into her pocket.

She turns to examine the carnage the children have wrought in the forty-five seconds she was distracted. Three are in tears, two wrestle over a broken toy, and one had managed to break through the “childproof” lock on the refrigerator.

She thinks of the various ways she might murder Owain when he returns from whatever soul-searching journey (in a word: vacation) he had decided he absolutely needed to take today.

She also considers what to do as she waits for Morgan’s mother. Reading the children a story may pacify them for a time, but reading out loud has always been a trying task characterized by Lucina tripping over words and forgetting every trick she knows that makes printed text more comprehensible. College professors may be lenient on those with learning disabilities, but toddlers are not. It is yet another lesser mystery to add to the greater conundrum of why on earth she works here.

She grabs the television remote from the top of the bookshelf. A little extra TV time can’t hurt.

She watches The Wiggles for a grand total of seventeen minutes before she hears a buzzer hail a visitor. She unlocks the entrance and ushers Ms. Grimeau into the playroom after a hasty greeting.

“Here, I brought you this.” As Morgan’s mother strides past, she rather unceremoniously shoves a disposable coffee cup into Lucina’s hands. “I ordered one Frappe, but the barista gave me two. Normally I’d make an issue of being double-charged, but you sounded like you’d need it.”

“Er, thank you.” Lucina isn’t sure what a Frappe is. She sets it aside; she doesn’t drink coffee, in any case.

“There he is,” Ms. Grimeau coos, drawing her son into her arms. “Is Miss Lucina giving you a hard time?”

Lucina laughs weakly. “He is a tough one, that much is certain.”

Morgan burrows his head into his mother’s neck. “Oh, but isn’t he sweet? I’m sure he didn’t mean it, whatever he did.”

“Right.” Lucina stifles a grimace. “At any rate, thank you for stopping by, Ms. Grimeau. I apologize if you had to miss anything important for this.”

“It’s Robin to you, sweetheart. And it’s no trouble at all. In fact, you look like you could use a second pair of hands to carry you through the rest of the day.” Robin brightens instantly. “Yes, that’s it! I’ll linger to help you manage the little ones. How does that sound to you?”

“You—no, I—that’s hardly necessary of you—”

“No, I insist! It would be cruel of me to leave you drowning in a sea of toddlers all by yourself.”

Lucina bites her lip. For as grateful she is that Robin consistently picks up Morgan early without a fuss, when it comes down to it, she truly cannot stand the woman. All Lucina knows about her is that she is extremely wealthy, constantly calls out pet names in that strange sing-song tone of hers, and is the most aggravating sort of parent imaginable. No matter what sort of damage Morgan does, she can’t seem to fathom him as anything but an angel. Granted, neither can most of the other parents, but Morgan causes enough trouble that there is a permanent grudge etched into the walls of Lucina’s mind.

Maybe none of that is enough reason to dislike a person so strongly, but there’s just something about this woman that puts Lucina on edge.

But then, perhaps it is a small price to pay for surviving the day.

“Very well,” says Lucina. “I suppose I could use some assistance.”

“Good, good,” Robin replies, and Lucina realizes she has already sat herself in one of the child-sized plastic chairs. “Do you have any champagne in the fridge? I think we could both stand a drink, given the circumstances.”

Lucina sighs. “No, Ms. Grimeau, we do not have any alcohol stored anywhere on the property.”

“Ooh, so serious. Fine, then, I’ll have what this one’s having.” Robin gestures towards the toddler next to her, who sips on an empty juice pouch.

“Alright,” says Lucina. Resigned, she discards the defunct childproof lock from the fridge and searches its contents, all the while thinking she’d give anything to follow Robin’s suggestion and drink the morning, afternoon, and evening away.

\--

The next day is Field Trip Day, and, thank the gods, every daycare worker is on board.

“So she just sat there? For, what, eight hours?” Owain asks.

“Five hours, and yes, save for recess,” says Lucina.

She and Owain sit beside the indoor kiddie pool as the children frolic in the shallow waters. It had been Lucina’s turn to choose from the designated field trip locations, and after the disaster that was yesterday, she decided on what, at the time, had seemed like the most relaxing option.

“Yikes,” says Owain. “Well, better than being completely alone, I guess. Oh, and for future reference, I recommend getting the kids to LARP with you. Frederick doesn’t usually let me do it, but you can get away with pretty much anything if it’s just you for the day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. As for Ms. Grimeau being there, I mostly ignored her; she only knows how to talk about herself, so it isn’t difficult.”

He laughs. “Ouch! And here I thought you didn’t have a single mean bone in your body!”

“It’s not mean, it’s just—okay, perhaps it is a little cold. I will apologize next time I see her.”

“No, no, don’t do that! You have to have an arch nemesis! And who better than the mother of the most infamous kid in the daycare?”

Lucina laughs halfheartedly. “I’m not sure if I want to make an enemy of someone wealthy enough to bury me under a mountain of lawsuits.”

Owain shrugs. He’s about to respond when one of their coworkers approaches them.

“Hey, Luke Skywalker, you’re up for sandbox watch. I’ll take over from here.”

“Curses!’ says Owain. “I’ll have sand in my shoes for a week! My one weakness!”

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure as few kids end up with sand in their Pull-Ups as possible.” Gaius tips his head toward Lucina. “You can go take a dip in the main pool if you want, Little Blue. I’ve got the kiddie pool covered.”

“Are you certain? I can wait until my replacement arrives. I don’t mind.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I think we’re overstaffed, anyway. We’ve been taking turns sneaking away to the pool because of it. Just don’t let the boss know. If he sees your wet hair, just tell him Morgan tried to drown you. Worked for me.”

“Thank you, Gaius. I appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just, uh, keep an eye out for Bubbles.”

“Um… alright. I’ll be careful.” Lucina doubts it is possible to avoid bubbles if she is going swimming, but then, Gaius tends to say odd things.

Swimming isn’t something that immediately comes to Lucina’s mind when she thinks about relaxing, but this isn’t so bad. Underwater, she cannot hear screaming children, or feel the eyes of coworkers and strangers upon her. Everything moves slowly and gently as though time is reluctant to advance. The fluorescent lights’ harsh glare is powerless against the dim, murky depths of the deep end. She feels welcome here.

Of course, she does need to come up for air from time to time. After several rounds of floating underwater and breaching for air, she sees a pair of feet approach the edge of the pool, though she cannot identify their owner for the chlorinated water in her eyes. She assumes it to be another one of her coworkers, likely whoever’s turn in the water is next.

“I’ll be right out,” she says.

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself for me, sweetie. I’m just enjoying the view.”

Lucina stops cold. It isn’t a coworker’s voice, but she’d recognize it anywhere.

“Ms. Grimeau?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

Robin sits and dangles her legs into the water, resting her chin on her hands. “I heard a rumor that you all were coming here for a field trip, so I thought I’d stop by and keep an eye on Morgan.”

“Morgan is playing in the kiddie pool. We don’t allow the children near the main pool.”

“Oh, of course, how silly of me! I was just going to look there, too, but I must have gotten distracted.”

Lucina sinks further into the water. She doesn’t know why, but she feels self-conscious under this woman’s gaze. Perhaps she feels inadequate compared to Robin, for the latter wears a swimsuit that leaves little to the imagination. Lucina wears a two-piece as well, but it is considerably more modest, more closely resembling shorts and a tank top.

She wants to invent an excuse to get out of the pool and leave Robin there, but then there would be no water shielding her from Robin’s prying eyes.

Robin speaks again before Lucina can form a plan. “I’m terribly sorry for being so talkative yesterday. I should really stop drinking while I work, but the temptation is truly powerful when one works from home.”

“Drinking?” echoes Lucina. Then her eyes widen. “You didn’t drive under the influence, did you?”

“Gods, no, I have a personal driver for that! What sort of person do you take me for?”

Lucina grimaces. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me to—Hold a moment. Did you say you work from home?”

“That’s right.”

“Then why does Morgan need to be here?”

“Oh, you know Morgan.”

Lucina laughs weakly. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

Robin moves her legs back and forth through the water slowly, watching the ripples travel away from her. “Truth be told, I’ve been thinking of taking him out of daycare programs entirely. I wanted him to be socialized with children his age, but I think it might too much stimulation for him. My work typically keeps me very occupied, however, so I can’t care for him properly on my own during the day. I would have to hire a nanny.”

Lucina says nothing, but wonders if submerging herself is a viable escape option.

Robin lifts her head from her hands. “What do they pay you here?”

“Oh. Um,” Lucina scrapes the back of her memory. “I think it was something like—”

“I’ll triple it.”

“You… what?”

“I said, ‘I’ll triple it.’ Whatever they pay you here, I’ll pay you much, much more.”

“For what, exactly?” Lucina asks, guarded.

“For taking care of Morgan, of course. I said I needed a nanny, didn’t I?”

“I’m flattered, Ms. Grimeau, but I hardly think I’m the most qualified person here for that job.”

“Don’t be silly. You handled yourself yesterday, didn’t you? Besides, surely you need the money for, what, rent? Student loans? Drugs?”

“No! I mean, rent and loans, yes, but I don’t—”

“It’s no difference to me, sweetheart,” says Robin, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s a win-win situation. But if you’d rather continue to be overworked, overwhelmed, and underpaid, that’s your decision.”

Lucina chews her lip and considers. Caring for Morgan exclusively for eight hours a day sounds like torture, but then again, if Robin is right about him misbehaving because of the daycare’s environment, maybe he’s more tolerable on his own. Even so, it would also mean spending much of the day in the same building as Robin, which sounds like a trial in and of itself.

But, gods, she really needs the money, and her current job just isn’t worth the stress.

“Very well,” she says. “I will think about it.”

“I’d think on it a little faster, if I were you. Your boss is coming this way.”

Panic floods Lucina’s veins. “He is? Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I’ll be out front. Bring Morgan when you’re done here. Oh, and I threw his change of clothes near what I assume is your bag. See you in a flash, darling.”

“Damn it,” Lucina hisses, paddling as quickly as she can to the pool’s edge. Eyes still partially clouded by water, she can’t spot Frederick anywhere, but she doesn’t want to take any chances.

She manages to scramble out of the water and grab a towel before hearing someone clear their throat rather loudly.

Lucina turned slowly to face her doom. Sure enough, Frederick stood with his arms crossed, tapping his foot.

“Ah, Mr. Geiszler,” says Lucina, her voice a bit too high, “Is everything alright? One of the children lost their toy in the water, so I was just retrieving it.”

“Miss Ezra. As you are normally a trustworthy sort, I would be prone to believe you. Yet I see no toy in your hand.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose I must have been seeing things, for I didn’t find anything in the pool after all.”

“I see.” Frederick’s brow hangs low over his eyes, which glare pointedly at Lucina. “Miss Ezra, is there something you would like to tell me?”

“I—” Panic rises within her again, but she swallows it down and meets Frederick’s gaze. “Yes, actually. I believe my time working with Shepherd Child Care is over.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Lucina lifts her chin, summoning bravery where she had thought there had been none. “I have been offered a position for which I feel I am better suited. Furthermore, I don’t agree with certain practices here, namely keeping an understaffed, underpaid, overworked pool of employees. Therefore, I am relinquishing my position effective immediately.”

“I understand your misgivings,” he says with a small grimace, “but to leave us so suddenly, in such a fashion? I thought you better than that, Lucina.”

 _Me, too,_ Lucina thinks. But she remains silent.

Frederick’s frown deepens. “Very well. See to it that you’ve left no personal belongings at the care center. I wish you well.”

At this, he turns on his heel and marches back to the rest of the group.

Lucina stands staring in his direction for some time, her mind working slowly. _What… just happened? Did I really just…_ Her gaze drifts to the building’s entrance. She can see Robin lingering near the exit, lazily tapping at her phone.

Robin. Her new boss, apparently.

Well, it wouldn’t do to keep her employer waiting on her first day.

She feels a tug on the towel she is holding. Morgan has one of his hands clasped around the fabric, the other rubbing his nose.

“Miss Luci,” he whines. “Hungry!”

Something about it brings a smile to Lucina’s face. “You’re hungry? Didn’t you eat a few dozen pounds of snow before we came here?”

“No snow, ice cream!”

She shakes her head and reaches for her bag of dry clothes. “All that swimming must have worked up your appetite. Shall we go get something to eat?”

“More ice cream!” cries Morgan.

“We’ll see about that. Let’s change into something dry first, shall we?”

Grateful that he is in no mood to object, Lucina guides the toddling Morgan to one of the connecting rooms to be changed.

“The family changing room, hm? People will start to think we’re a couple.”

Lucina looks over her shoulder to find Robin leaning against the doorway, her lips curved in a smirk.

Lucina huffs quietly and pulls Morgan’s shirt over his head. “They will not.”

“Well, I look too young to be your mother, and we don’t exactly look like sisters. What else would they think?”

“I believe there is a term called ‘friends’?”

At this, Robin can only laugh. Lucina furrows her brow. “Weren’t you going to wait outside?”

“I was, but then I remembered that it’s fifteen degrees fahrenheit outside, and Stahl seems to have parked the car on the other side of the country. Why you all decided to take a trip to the pool in the middle of January will forever be a mystery to me.”

“I thought it would be fun,” Lucina muttered.

She finishes dressing a squirming Morgan and reaches for her own dry clothes. Wary of Robin watching her, she decides against peeling off her damp swimsuit and merely throws a hoodie and sweatpants over her wet garments.

Robin clicks her tongue, but says nothing of it.

“Where are we going?” asks Lucina as she zips her bag and stands.

“After we pick up whatever you’ve left at the daycare, you may as well follow me to my home. You’ll be needing the grand tour, and we must discuss the details of your employment. You are accepting my offer, correct? You’d like to work for me?”

Lucina thinks she can hear her pride struggling to breathe, but she holds fast. “I haven’t decided,” she lies.

“What if I quadruple your pay?”

Lucina sputters and nearly chokes on her own saliva. “That isn’t necessary of you,” she rasps.

“You’ll do it, then?”

Lucina hesitates. Robin smiles meekly. “Come on, darling, it can’t be much farther a commute than your current trip. Plus, I think you’ll find me to be a much more pleasant employer than… _that.”_ She tilts her head towards the room’s exit, surely indicating Lucina’s former superior.

“I think it could be fun,” Robin continues. “What do you say?”

Her hand is extended, her palm open and inviting. This is Lucina’s last chance to say “No.”

Lucina worries her lip again. Even if Robin was only joking about quadrupling her pay, she was offering a lot of money to a student buried in debt. It’s all too generous of her, not to mention all too convenient, which does little to soothe Lucina’s discomfort.

Of course, if she really wanted to say “no”, she would not have given her sudden notice to Frederick.

Lucina’s pride utters a death rattle. She takes Robin’s hand and shakes.

“Very well,” she says. “We have a deal.”

Robin grins, and Lucina thinks that the woman’s teeth are far too white.

“Excellent,” says Robin. “And here I believed you thought badly of me. Well, then, shall we be off?” She lifts Morgan and holds him against her chest. “You can ride in the back seat with me. Morgan has a child seat; he’ll be fine as a passenger.”

“I... think that may be illegal?” says Lucina.

But Robin is already turning to leave. “Not if we don’t get caught, sweetheart,” she calls with a wave of her hand.

Lucina sighs as she follows, her stomach already churning with regret. “Naga help me if I’ve made a mistake,” she mutters, her footsteps echoing in the damp chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I attempt to capture the essence of a guilty pleasure fic. 
> 
> Blame this one on a chat with tumblr user cloudhime, who is an enabler and must be stopped.


	2. Night One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday butterfly kiddo \o/

“Naga’s tits, it’s fucking cold!”

Severa’s uncharacteristically crude, but doubtlessly loud screech accompanies her arrival. Every head at the table snaps to watch her storm toward them from the bar’s entrance, followed closely by Kjelle and Cynthia.

“Maybe if you actually dressed for the weather,” Kjelle mutters.

“Well, maybe if every winter coat didn’t make me look like a fucking blimp!”

“You’re certainly more ornery than usual. Is the cold really such a bad thing? It’s added such a lovely shade of rose to your cheeks, after all.” Inigo’s laughter only serves to feed Severa’s anger.

“Why, you—”

“Please, Severa,” Lucina begs, “try not to curse so loudly. They serve families in the main seating area.”

Severa sucks in a breath to protest, but upon meeting Lucina’s gaze, releases it in an exaggerated sigh. “ _Fine._ But _someone_ had better buy me an extra drink. Consider it insurance.”

“Bribery is a sin, milady,” says Inigo.

“Fuck you.”

Lucina sighs as well. It’s as though she never left the day care.

“Anyway,” says Owain, putting his elbows on the table, “my dearest cousin, you were on the verge of revealing the shadowy secrets surrounding your newest vocation, were you not?”

“My what?”

“Ooh, that’s right! Lucina, you’re working for the wicked witch of the—” Cynthia pauses. “Um, which side of town is the Grimeau estate on, again? West or east?”

“Southwest, actually,” says Laurent.

“A witch, eh? How enchanting,” Inigo teases.

Lucina grimaces. “Hardly. Though ‘wicked’ isn’t an entirely unwarranted descriptor.”

“The villain! What manner of evil hath she wrought?” Owain asks.

“Well... nothing that I know of, actually. I barely see her during the day; she shuts herself in her office to work. After I gave my personal information to her security guard, she gave me the grand tour of her home, but we’ve had little contact since then. And yet,” Lucina hesitates, twirling her fork against the tablecloth, “I cannot help but remain wary of her. She was so insistent on hiring me over better candidates, yet I haven’t thought of a suitable explanation. What exactly does she expect of me?”

“Beyond being a mediocre nanny? I’ve got one idea,” says Kjelle. “She hasn’t tried to feel you up or anything, has she?”

“G-goodness, no!” Lucina stutters, her face flushed. “What makes you ask that?”

“Yes, Kjelle,” Severa inquires rather pointedly, “what makes you ask that?”

Kjelle rolls her eyes. “I worked as her personal trainer for a while. She tried to put the moves on me a few times. She’ll probably do the same to you.”

“You just let her put her hands all over you?” Severa whirls on Kjelle, eyes ablaze. “And you _didn’t_ clock her in her big mouth?”

“Would you relax? She stopped when I told her I wasn’t interested. Besides, she only ever touched my biceps. It’s not like I could blame her,” Kjelle says with a smirk.

“Anyway,” she continues, “long story short, if she makes a pass at you just tell her you’re not about that and she’ll back off.”

“Good to know,” Lucina mutters. She has a hard time imagining any employer being so indecent. But then, these things do happen, she supposes.

A bell chimes from her pocket, accompanied by a vibration. She pulls her phone out and silences the alarm.

“I’m afraid that’s my cue to leave. I have work in the morning, unfortunately.”

“What? But you just got here!” Severa protests.

“No, _you_ just got here,” says Owain. “We waited, like, two hours for you guys!”

Severa rolls her eyes. “Excuse us for having lives outside of hitting up cheap bars and LARPing with four-year-olds.”

Lucina starts to creep away from the rowdy group, but Severa traps her with an inescapable glare. “Lucina! You’d better not let that witch put her warty hands on you. Call me if she tries anything, alright?”

Lucina stifles a sigh. “Of course, Severa. You are ever my staunchest of protectors.”

“You’ve got that right.” Apparently satisfied, Severa turns her animosity towards the next offender on her list.

“And you!” she snaps at Kjelle. “When were you planning on telling me about your escapades with your clients?”

Whatever Kjelle’s reply, it is lost to blustering winds as Lucina pushes through the restaurant’s exit.

\--

“—meteorologists saying we could see up to fifteen inches of snow just overnight here in Ylisse county. Experts are warning citizens to stay off the road, citing low visibility and slippery conditions. Already the Ylisstol-Ferox expressway is down to one lane of traffic coming south due to disastrous pileups—”

“Yes, thank you, I am aware,” says Lucina, clicking the television off.

Despite the news, she looks to the window for some sign of hope. Outside, the snow falls so thickly and with such force that she cannot see her car parked a mere two dozen feet away.

She sighs deeply, though takes care not to wake the sleeping Morgan curled up beside her.

Attempting to push away the anxiety fraying her nerves, she weighs her options. There is no way her car can handle this weather, but she isn’t keen on staying overnight in the same building as her alleged arch-nemesis and her hellish child. Though she hates the idea of putting her friends at the mercy of mother nature, she knows that several of them would be willing to brave the storm.

Cynthia would be the first to volunteer, but the only vehicle she owns is a motorcycle—decidedly not blizzard-proof. Severa has gotten her license suspended in a road rage incident, while Kjelle is a risk to herself and everyone on the road even in the mildest traffic. Owain is little better, plus she is quite certain his car is just as ill-suited for this weather as hers. Gerome’s monster of a truck can probably handle the snow, but she has a feeling he would be as apathetic to her situation as ever.

She hears footsteps shuffling some distance away. Oh, no.

“Good lord. Isn’t that unfortunate? I don’t suppose it’s safe to drive home in that weather,” said Robin.

“I don’t know. It may be worth a try,” says Lucina. Better than the alternative, at least.

The woman’s giggle leaves Lucina uneasy. “Oh, you,” Robin says. “Always the comedian, aren’t you?”

Lucina furrows her brow and wonders when she has ever attempted to joke in front of this woman.

“No, I can’t see you making it through that storm,” Robin continues. “Therefore, you are more than welcome to spend the night here. I have plenty of guest rooms scattered around the house. Unless you have trouble sleeping alone?”

“Not since I was a child, ma’am.”

The corners of Robin’s smile fall almost imperceptibly. “Whatever you say, sweetie. Now, then, I know the perfect thing for warming up on a cold, snowy night! Wait right here.”

As Robin departs, Lucina frowns after her. She never did agree to stay the night. But then, it isn’t as though she’s about to sleep outside. Sighing, she pats Morgan’s hair idly.

“Do you prefer white or red, sweetheart?”

Lucina finds Robin standing on the far side of the room, a glass of wine in each hand. She looks fairly ridiculous, Lucina thinks, wearing nothing more than a violet satin robe embroidered with a golden “R”. Though the robe barely reaches her knees, the front parts just enough to push the boundaries of decency. Lucina cannot determine whether Robin is proud of her cleavage or simply absent-minded.

“Darling?”

“Oh. Er…” Lucina doesn’t want a drink, really, but she doesn’t want to be rude, either. “My apologies. I will take the opposite of your preference.”

Robin chuckles as she approaches. “You’re a sweet one, aren’t you? Here you are.” She hands her a glass.

Lucina thinks she will leave to do whatever it is wealthy women do with their time, but to her silent horror, Robin sits beside her—or rather, beside Morgan, who may very well be in the running for world’s deepest sleeper.

“I know what we can do. Let’s have a girls’ night in! How do makeovers sound? I’m dying to bury my hands in that hair of yours.” As Robin speaks, she brushes a curtain of Lucina’s hair over her shoulder.

“But I’m not a—” Lucina catches herself and stops. She doesn’t usually share that sort of information with employers.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed. Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t do something fun.”

Lucina just blinks. Robin sighs and waves a hand.

“Fine, fine, we’ll settle for a movie. I’ve been meaning to whittle down my Webflix queue, anyway.” She lifts Morgan from the couch and carries him toward the hallway, presumably to his bedroom.

“Don’t forget about your wine, dear!” she calls. “You won’t find that brand shelved with any grocery store swill!”

“Right,” Lucina mutters, staring into her glass. She hadn’t intended to drink any, but the atmosphere has grown awkward quickly enough for her to reconsider. She takes a ginger sip and raises her eyebrows. Robin wasn’t lying; this isn’t half bad.

 

After Robin returns, she chooses a film that might have been appealing if Lucina wasn’t trapped in close quarters with her boss late at night. Robin talks throughout the movie, pointing out tiny details that nobody else on Naga’s green earth would notice. Lucina would be impressed if she weren’t already so tired of her antics.

In addition to running her mouth, Robin generously keeps each of their glasses full. Again, Lucina would be grateful if she hadn’t resorted to pouring each glass into the ficus beside the couch whenever Robin isn’t looking. As much as the wine soothes her nerves, she doesn’t particularly want to become intoxicated in front of her employer.

It’s all bearable until the end of the movie, whereupon Robin sobs without relent.

Lucina isn’t fully sure how to respond, so she pats Robin’s shoulder in what she hopes resembles consolation. “There, there, it’s nothing more than a film. Nothing to get upset over,” she says.

Robin looks at her with the weepiest gaze Lucina has ever seen on a person. She gives an ugly sniffle. “Oh, Lucina! All I’ve done tonight is embarrass myself in front of you. Here I am sobbing at some two-star film. You should be laughing at what a mess I am!”

“Why would I laugh at you? There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of sensitivity.”

Another sniffle, this time paired with a weak smile. “You’re too sweet. Thank you for putting up with me.”

Lucina assumes she is finished, but in the next moment Robin throws her arms around Lucina’s neck in another drunken sob.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” says Lucina. She normally isn’t one to abandon someone in such obvious distress, but in Robin’s words, this is getting embarrassing. She needs an escape plan.

“Perchance could I use your shower?” She asks.

The question is sudden, but it doesn’t seem to bother Robin. She pulls away from Lucina, rubs her eyes, and nods. “Yes… yes, of course. Give me a moment.” She tugs a tissue from a box on the side table and blows. Lucina experiences an utterly foreign urge to roll her eyes.

“The closest bathroom is under renovations, so you can use the one attached to the master bedroom instead. Do you remember where that is?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lucina stands—perhaps too eagerly—and starts toward the hallway leading to the master bedroom.

Following a few minutes of getting lost, she successfully locates Robin’s bedroom and creeps through the entrance. Inside is a room as needlessly large and lavish as one would expect from a person of wealth, the furnishings colored in deep purples and gold accents. The entire wall converted into a massive bookshelf is a surprise, but the rest seems par for the course; a king-sized bed dressed in silken sheets, a door left ajar to reveal a walk-in closet, and a preposterously wide flatscreen television mounted to the wall opposite the bed.

Unable to bear such a garish display of affluence any longer, Lucina finds the door to the bathroom. This room is no more familiar, but at least the toilet isn’t gilded.

The shower appears to be the type that shoots jets of water from multiple angles, which Lucina had thought only a myth. On the other side of the room, a menagerie of bath salts and soaps wreathe a jacuzzi tub. Though she had claimed to need a shower, she eyes the tub. She cannot remember when she last took time to soak in a mix of suds and hot water. Gods know she needs to relax; perhaps some time in the bath couldn’t hurt.

After several failed attempts at fiddling with the controls, Lucina manages to get water flowing at a tolerable temperature. She examines the various powders scattered about, though she steers clear of the labels in other languages, as they’re certainly the most expensive. She doesn’t need quite that level of luxury just yet.

She isn’t sure how much soap she needs to fully fill the tub with suds, so she dumps a generous amount from a few different containers into the water. When she attends the tub again after removing her clothes, she grins at the mountain of bubbles. Overkill, to be certain, but no harm done.

And, gods, is it worth it. Lucina feels her muscles unknot, her tension melting in the steaming water. She is likely to fall asleep if she stays there for too long, so she turns on the jets to keep the current flowing.

It’s almost worth dealing with the Grimeaus, she considers, as it is unlikely she will get the chance to experience such spa-like conditions again for some time.

Without warning, the bathroom door opens. Lucina yelps and covers herself, though more out of reflex than necessity; there is no way someone could glimpse her body for the suds filling the tub.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear. I thought you would be in the shower.” Robin’s voice does little to ease Lucina’s alarm. At least she doesn’t seem to mind a guest using the jacuzzi.

Lucina decides to remain cordial. “I-it’s alright. Are you, er, feeling any better?”

“Yes, much better, thank you. Would you like to watch the sequel with me after you’re done here?”

Oh, gods. “Perhaps. I’m a little tired, so I may head off to bed when I’m finished.”

Robin pouts. “Aw. Well, alright. At least let me throw your clothes in the laundry.”

“But—” Lucina begins to protest, but there is nothing she can do to stop Robin from plucking the discarded clothing from the floor.

“I’ll have them clean for you by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I have spare robes hanging just over there. If you need something to sleep in, I’ll happily lend you something.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“No trouble of all, sweetheart. Enjoy yourself!”

Lucina sinks further into the soapy water. Suddenly, the bath doesn’t feel quite so relaxing.

 

She finishes her bath as quickly as she can. The aforementioned robes, of course, are identical to the one Robin wears, but Lucina has no other options. At least she can cover herself somewhat with a towel.

She feels fairly ridiculous when she steps out in the satin garment. Robin, however, is delighted.

“Adorable! I think it suits you, dear. Gods know I’d show off those legs, if I were you.”

It should be an innocent enough compliment, but Lucina flushes nonetheless. “Thank you, ma’am,” she says through her teeth.

Robin pats the bed beside her. “Come, sit, sit! I’ve heard the sequel is better than the original, but we’ll be the judge of that.”

Lucina blinks. “Here? On the bed? What’s wrong with the couch?”

“Beds are significantly more comfortable than couches, don’t you think? Besides, I’m likely to pass out in the next few hours with all this wine in my belly. I’d rather do so here.”

Lucina worries her lip. The thought to leave and retire to her designated room crosses her mind, but her legs betray her; she approaches the bedside and claims a spot beside Robin.

She doesn’t miss how the woman’s eyes watch her as she moves, nor how they trail from Lucina’s toes to her face, but she says nothing.

“Don’t worry about making a mess of the bed,” says Robin, and Lucina recalls her dripping hair. “I’ve cleaned worse from these sheets,” she adds with a wink.

Lucina pulls the towel more tightly around her shoulders. “Okay.”

“Would you be a dear and set up the captions? I’m going to pour us some more drinks.”

Lucina obliges, accepting the remote control. Robin, of course, has another bottle of wine on her nightstand, which she empties into their glasses.

The title credits roll. Lucina relents and imbibes. She will need the buzz if Robin becomes emotional again.

 

Only one of them makes it to the end of the film; Robin dozes off half an hour in. With nobody to talk over the majority of the dialogue, Lucina finds herself invested in the characters. In particular, the protagonist’s story tugs at her heartstrings.

“I’m home, sweet-pea,” says the main character, a divorced father with a heart of gold. Bruised and battered from his trials, he crouches and holds a worn plush bear out to his daughter. “It took some effort, but I got Fluffbear back. Sorry I took so long.”

The little girl ignores the bear and throws herself into her father’s arms.

Tears sting Lucina’s eyes. The movie is forgettable overall, but something about the resolution moves her. Having downed three glasses of wine may also be a factor.

Robin stirs beside her. Alarmed, Lucina rubs her eyes, determined not to let this woman see her weep at such a mediocre film.

“Lucina?” She lays a hand on Lucina’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Was the movie too heavy?”

“N-no, I just—I miss my father,” Lucina blurts. She regrets her decision immediately; the only answer worse than the truth is one that is entirely too personal.

Robin’s voice is groggy, but sickly sweet. “Oh, honey… is he… passed?”

Lucina wipes her nose on the skin of her arm. She couldn’t be more embarrassed, sitting there sniveling like a child and over-sharing her personal life.

“Yeah,” she mutters. No point in lying.

“You poor thing. Come here, darling.” Without waiting for a response, Robin pulls her into an embrace, and Lucina is too tired and buzzed to protest.

She sits there dumbly, arms limp, before realizing it would be less awkward if she returned the gesture.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” says Robin. “I should have been more considerate with my choice of film. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Settled in the crook of the woman’s neck, Lucina can smell her floral perfume. It’s… nice.

She swallows. “It’s fine, you couldn’t have known. You, er, don’t need to hold me so tightly.”

Robin chuckles and frees her, though she keeps a hand on Lucina’s shoulder.

“Will you be alright?” she asks.

“Of course. I feel better already.” This much is true; the film’s emotional scene had brought only a moment of weakness. They were both blowing this out of proportion.

Robin’s affectionate smile reaches her eyes. “I’m glad. But you know—” and at this, Robin’s hand trails down Lucina’s arm, “—the guest bedroom can get a little cold. If you find yourself in need of a warm body, you know where I’ll be.”

Lucina knits her brow. “Are there not enough spare blankets?”

Robin chuckles again, more sharply this time. “That’s not quite what I meant. What I mean to say is… well, if you’re still feeling lonely later on, I’d be happy to keep you company. As a fun little distraction, you could call it.”

Lucina remains baffled until she feels Robin’s wandering hand travel from her knee to her upper thigh. At once, she understands.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, her voice much too high. Kjelle’s advice rings in her ears: _just say no, just say no, just say—_

“I’ll think about it.”

Heat floods her face, staining her ears and cheeks a deep red. Well, at least she wasn’t tipsy enough to say “yes”.

“Wonderful,” says Robin, flashing a wicked grin, and Lucina certainly doesn’t think of those teeth at the pulse now throbbing in her neck—

 _Gods, I’m more drunk than I thought,_ she thinks.

Fighting through her inebriation, Lucina shifts to the side of the bed and staggers to her feet. If she doesn’t leave the room soon, she will surely do something she will regret.

“I’m going to bed. Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! I should be thanking you for the company. Do you need help finding your room?”

“No,” she lies. “Goodnight.”

Robin hums, perhaps in amusement. “Goodnight, my dear. Sleep tight.”

 

Again, Lucina loses her way as she sways down hallways looking for her designated quarters, but eventually she finds a room with a bed and she decides that will do.

She collapses onto the mattress and releases a deep sigh. This is not how she had expected the night to go, though it could have gone much worse. She remembers her response to Robin’s proposition and buries her face further into the sheets.

She floats between consciousness and slumber for some time before finally rousing herself to disrobe. She had forgotten to grab pajama-worthy clothing from Robin’s room, and her pride will not allow her to return to Robin’s room now. She supposes sleeping nude is hardly the most revealing or embarrassing she has done tonight. She feels much too warm for the robe around her shoulders, at any rate.

As she loosens the tie at her waist, however, she hears something like paper crinkle. Frowning, she reaches a hand into the robe’s pocket and pulls out paper currency marked with a large “50” in every corner. Upon closer examination, someone has written, in impeccable script, the name “Lucina” in purple ink, followed by a heart.

The heat in her cheeks spreads elsewhere. Lucina clutches the bill in a tight fist.

“This woman is going to kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much happens on night one, you know how it is
> 
> edit: disabled anonymous commenting until I post again, y'all gotta stop bugging me about updates (unless you wanna do my full time job for me)


End file.
